


Hidden Hands

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/M, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-12 15:30:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21478660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Gabriel falls and has to learn to live with the consequences. Unfortunately, nothing is that simple.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	1. We All Fall Down

**Author's Note:**

> This is a co-Authored work based on an RP. It is a saga that currently has more than ten parts as of 3/2020, as we edit and get things together we'll get more posts up! 
> 
> “And falling's just another way to fly.”  
\- Emilie Autumn

**When an Angel falls, it is a literal Fall, and more.** There is gravity, a pull that draws them down to the depths of Hell, as the flames burn away Her love. Wings burn and are left the color of ash in the wake of the holy fire that removes their angelic grace.

But an Angel hasn't Fallen in many, many millennia, so long ago that it had become only a distant thought that it could happen, not that it ever would.

So it makes for a shock when the Crown Prince of Hell comes to witness a new fall. Until now, ze had believed it would never happen again.

The lower-ranking residents of Hell screamed and shouted in excitement as the white-winged being, still encased in unholy flame, ended the long descent into the Pit with a resounding splash as he hit the burning blue sulfur that would complete his unholy transition.

Demons shoved and kicked each other for leverage, fighting amongst each other as a long, distant scream could be heard echoing from the depths of the Pit. They wanted to get close, wanted to see, wanted to know who was there, it was the biggest news in Hell since Armageddon. Or, as the demons and thralls would whisper, "Armageddon't talk about it."

"Keep them back!" Beelzebub orders Dagon, zir higher-ranking guards holding back the hordes as ze moves toward the edge of the entrance to the Pit. It's been years since ze has set foot here, but this is the first new Fall since the very firsts – and Beelzebub has an idea of who it is. Ze keeps zir face as steadfast as possible, but it's hard given what ze thinks, what ze knows.

There was shouting as Dagon, and the others pressed the crowd back, no easy feat considering it seemed every Demon from every corner of Hell had come to greet their new resident. Hastur appeared and helped push the lot back, but he and Dagon were going to need more help - or Beelzebub was going to have to get their new resident out of there, and fast.

At the shores of the Pit, blue burning sulfur still clinging to black wings reminiscent of an owl's, hot liquid blue sulfur cradles the new Fallen; a shrouded, trembling figure, yet raw and stinging from his Fall to Hell.

The trembling doesn't stop as Beelzebub approaches, leather boots hissing as they hit sulfur. Ze remembers how it burned; it's the first memory that ze has.

"You have to get up." The Prince says as they knelt beside him. Ze tries not to look away, tries not to look at the Demons clamoring for a glimpse of this broken, formerly holy one, "You can't stay in the Pit, it just makes things worse."

The black owl's wings finally stop trembling, and there's complete silence in the Pit as those wings reveal the face of the newly former Archangel Gabriel.

"I..." Gabriel groans and shakes his head, as if trying to clear it, voice shaking as he forces himself up off the ground, ending up on his knees, "What – where am I?" He looked down at his hands as if they were maps that had the answer.

"You're in Hell. You've Fallen from Her grace," Beelzebub answered, zir voice calm, tempered as ze offered a hand to him, "You're like me now."

"I Fell...?" Gabriel questioned as he turned to look as his wings spread, unbidden. They were still massive and powerful, that hadn't changed – but they'd gone from stark white to jet black; not a trace of its previous soft downy texture of pure white left "… Oh."

Taking zir hand, Gabriel slowly got to his feet, and when he finally looked up at zir, ze discovered that his eyes had remained a brilliant, glowing violet.

"Do you know your name?" The Prince asked softly as if ze asked this a thousand times before.

Gabriel stared at them for a long moment and then nodded slowly.

"What is it?" Ze has to be sure, has to know that this Fall has not entirely removed him from the reality that was.

"You know who I am, Beelzebub," Gabriel answered, brow furrowing, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, "My name is still Gabriel."

"Welcome to your new home, Gabriel," Ze says that to every newly Fallen, but the Prince hasn't uttered those words in more than six thousand years. "I'll show you a place you can rest." Beelzebub looks concerned, stricken somehow.

Gabriel stares at zir for a moment before retaking zir hand, accepting the help.

Dagon has most of the crowd dispersed by the time they reach her at the entrance of the Pit, but even she stares at Gabriel as they approach. "My Lord?" She questions, "What are your orders?"

Hastur looks displeased with this but says nothing at Dagon's side.

"Keep the corridors clear to my chambers; let them know Gabriel has Fallen from Her grace. That should ease the restless ones who have nothing to do but fret over what has happened," Beelzebub takes Gabriel's hand and gives it a squeeze, "We will be in my quarters." ze informs the two Dukes as they walk out of the entrance to the Pit, or the exit depending on your opinion of this room. "Come, you need to rest."

It's not a suggestion; it's a fact, a Fall takes a lot out of a person. Beelzebub knows from experience that Gabriel may sleep for days, if not weeks, to be able to recuperate enough strength.

Gabriel, for his part, lets himself lead, wings pulled up over both of them, granting them ample cover as they hurried along the corridor. He does not want to be seen, and Beelzebub almost kindly allows the shielding, as if it could make things easier on the former Archangel.

"I take it you expected me?" Gabriel murmured to the Prince as they moved, "You don't seem very surprised." His voice is rough around the edges like there's sulfur still in his throat.

"I wouldn't say I expected it, but now that it's happened, I can't say I'm shocked," Beelzebub answers, with a shrug, "You rocked Heaven, and you paid the price for it. That's why Demons exist. We rocked the Heavens, and fearful of our doings, they cast us out."

"I don't..." Gabriel shook his head again, "I can't remember what happened."

"That's normal, the haze it may wear off, or it might not," Beelzebub pushes open the door to zir chambers, and they enter, "You remember your name. That's a good sign that all your memories aren't lost. Some who Fell remembered some things, others just their names, and others still nothing at all – those got new ones."

Gabriel's black owl wings fold and disappear as they enter. He offers Beelzebub a tired smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.  
Beelzebub's private quarters have a fireplace, with two chairs and a small table, and a sizeable opulent bed, with black and red silk sheets. The walls are a yellowish color and look like flypaper because, of course, they do.

Fly, Beelzebub's familiar, is sitting on a table in the far of the room with a bowl of rotten fruit, buzzing away happily.

"Comfortable," Gabriel observes.

"I always thought so," Beelzebub told him with a nod. "I do not require much,"

Gabriel sits down on the bed after a quick look at the Prince. He's trembling again – though from what is anyone's guess. Gabriel puts his hands together with a shaky breath, shoulders still so tense. His violet eyes are dark, distant like he's deep in thought.

"Take all the time you need." Beelzebub doesn't press.

"What happens now?" Gabriel asked, softly, looking up at zir after a moment.

"We live." It's a simple answer. "Together, if that's what you want. If not, I can have quarters assigned to you."

"So nothing changes," Gabriel said, looking down again, "… Except I'm here now."

"For the most part." Zir nods as ze sits beside him on the bed. "The Dark Council will give you a title, and after you recover, probably assignments."

"Title? Assignments?" For the first time, Gabriel looks apprehensive. He runs a hand through his dark hair, warily, shoulders relaxing slightly, "I imagine when more Demons find out I'm here, there might be, more trouble?"

"We didn't have trouble before." The Prince takes his hand in zir own, "More like you'll be a celebrity, we have one of Heaven's big guns on our side now." It's said muted, though; it isn't meant to be a pitch.

"I'm not sure what use I'll be," Gabriel shook his head, "But I suppose I have no choice now, do I?"

"I could release you to Earth, like Crowley." Beelzebub shrugs with a gesture around the room, "If this is too much."

"I think I'd rather try my hand here, first," Gabriel chuckled now – a real, genuine one.

"I won't say I'm not glad to have you here," Beelzebub's face breaks into the faintest of smiles. "I just didn't think it would be like this."

"At least there's no more lying." Gabriel answered, tiredly, "I was tired of lying to them about all this, about you, about us…" Zir's hand finds his and takes it.

"We can do as we please." Beelzebub nodded again. "With no retribution, I am the Crown Prince of Hell; my word is law."

Gabriel smiles another genuine smile, then looked away. "It stings," he finally said, "My wings. Does it stop stinging, eventually?"

"After a few days, the worst will be over. It'll still itch on occasion." Zir lets their wings emerge, "They get less heavy, too, as you get used to it." Beelzebub sighs, looking him over.

Gabriel stands, wobbling a bit. He reaches out and runs his hand down the soft, downy feathers of Beelzebub's wings before cupping zir face with a steady hand. "Good." He said, seriously.

"I'm glad you're alive." Beelzebub stands up to hug him abruptly like something has broken or given way inside zir to cause it, "I thought for sure they would destroy you."

"I don't know why they didn't," Gabriel shook his head even as he wrapped his arms around Beelzebub, hugging zir close, "They could have just killed me. Been done with the whole thing."

Beelzebub shakes Zir head. "I, for one, am pleased with this. To me, this is an act of mercy."

"I'm not so sure they'd consider it mercy," Gabriel chuckled shortly, running a hand through zir dark hair. He leans kissing the dark hair on the Prince's head - a comfort not only for zir but himself, a way to ground him in the knowledge that they are both alive, standing right here with one another.

"I do." Zir looks up. "And even if they will never know and never care, I am grateful." Beelzebub smiles at him, a bright smile like ze's just won the lottery.

It's such an honest expression and goes directly against Beelzebub's character. It's the truth, and it's what zir thinks Gabriel deserves right now, considering everything that's just happened to both of them.

**+++++++**


	2. Duke Gabriel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “If you are going through hell, keep going.”  
― Winston S. Churchill

They sleep that night, because Gabriel will need to recoup some energy, and Beelzebub has no prior engagements until the next day. Morning comes too fast, and Beelzebub is up early. Ze stands at a mirror, fussing with zir sash. “I will speak to the Council today, and see when they expect to take you under consideration.” They get the sash worked out and mess with their collar as Fly landed on zir head. Beelzebub reaches into zir pocket and pulls out a sugar cube, offering it up to the massive fuzzy creature, who takes it in its long forearms and starts to lick at it, buzzing happily.

“I hope nothing too drastic,” Gabriel answered as he stood up. His violet eyes found Fly and the sugar cube, and his gaze softened, “I doubt my presence will make a difference in their decision?”

“You can come along if you like, but you might want to miracle some different attire,” Zir answered, crossing the room and waving Fly off zir head to stand before him at the end of the bed. “It can be boring, this sort of bureaucracy, but I welcome you at my side - it is where I have always hoped you would remain.”

Gabriel looked down at his bare chest and then back up at Beelzebub with a raised brow. He stood, snapped his fingers, and in an instant, wore a simple black suit.

“There we are,” He chirped, patting Fly as it buzzed excitedly near his ear, “I’d be glad to join you.”

Beelzebub nodded and motioned him to go to the door ahead of zir.

“The council is elected by the souls in Hell, to see to their benefit,” Beelzebub explained - it’s hard to believe that Hell is where souls went to be punished, “Hell is not a welcoming place for any soul, but none of us wished to be here, and in that we all understand one another. Making the best of a bad situation.”

“There are those who are lost here, and I won’t deny that making this their living Hell; what it was always promised in human’s holy books,” Beelzebub continues from Gabriel’s side as they move, “But some are just unfortunate victims.” 

“I know how the story goes,” Gabriel answered, with a short nod, as they moved down the hallway, “Then again, the Schism damned those who only asked questions or joined Lucifer,” He gestures to zir, “... Or stood a little too close.” 

“I don’t even know which was my fault.” Beelzebub sighs as they turn down a hallway, “It means little now, I assume due to my rank I was at least friends with Lucifer before the Schism. I probably would not be a Prince for just asking why.”

“You wouldn’t be, no,” Gabriel glanced at zir, ze didn’t remember as Gabriel did - ze also isn’t wrong.

As they rounded another corner together, they ran into Dagon.

“My Lord,” Dagon bowed as she rounded the corner, and then stared at Gabriel, looking him up and down, surprised, stalling.

Beelzebub frowns. “What is it, Dagon?”

“I was about to message you,” She said, looking away from Gabriel, “The council is convening to deal with...” She paused, “... Our new resident.” She said diplomatically. 

“We’re headed that way.” Beelzebub nods, looking over at Gabriel, “Come on – Dagon, go ahead and announce our arrival.”

“Yes,” Dagon bowed and vanished.

“I’m getting the feeling my arrival is ruffling some feathers,” Gabriel said, looking over at Beelzebub, nervous.

“It’s just unusual, there hasn’t been a fall in six thousand years, since the Schism.” Beelzebub says, turning to look at him, “They have reason to be concerned.”

“And someone of my... previous rank probably means even more concern.” Gabriel made a face.

“Perhaps. But there are six council members and if they cannot agree my vote is cast. I can break ties.” Ze assures him, “I will not allow harm to come to you.”

Dagon meets them outside the Council chambers.

“It’s a toss-up,” She informs them as they approach, “Some of them want him destroyed.”

Gabriel did look nervous now.

“Open it.” Ze brace and wait for Dagon to open the doors, and they enter. 

The six Dark Council Demons stand abruptly, stopping their discussion from bowing. Six Demons. Two female, Azra, and Zina. Four Male Bantor, Salva, Methril, and Zoba.

“Take your seats,” Beelzebub orders, nodding at them each in greeting. 

The first council member, Zoba, stands unbidden, “My Prince, he must be destroyed-” 

“- No, he has valuable information on heaven!” Azra says in defiance.

“No one remembers anything after the Schism.” The Zoba argues, “He’s just a liability!”

Unruffled, Beelzebub holds up a hand, and the room goes silent.

Gabriel glances at the Prince and then up at the faces of the Council. He’s met some of them, but never imagined he’d be before them like this. He folds his arms behind his back and doesn’t say a word, waiting.

“He isn’t to be destroyed.” Beelzebub holds up a hand again, “I won’t have it.” 

The Council starts to deliberate. 

“No.” Beelzebub lowers zir hand, clearly not taking no for an answer, “Gabriel remembers everything, and I’m sure he would be willing to give us some information that he might have, but I have to insist on his existence.” 

“You,” Beelzebub points to the first Demon on the panel, one clearly for destroying Gabriel. “You fell after the Princes, after me and mine. Should I not destroy you? All of you, for not being there at the start?” 

Miraculously, that seems to calm the room.

“He Fell because he chose against heaven.” Beelzebub continues, “Choices we make every day. He lives.” 

With that, Beelzebub bangs zir hand on the table. 

It’s decided. The council members turn to one another and talk briefly. 

The first Demon bangs his gavel. “He lives,” He sighs though clearly unhappy about it.

Gabriel’s eyes flickered during the deliberation and the decision, and he glances at the Prince again, unfolding his arms from behind his back, only to fold them across his broad chest, violet eyes concerned.

What information could they possibly want?

“His Title?” Beelzebub continues.

“He won’t be a Prince, but Ligur’s death leaves us short a Duke.” The first Demon shakes his head 

Beelzebub nods. “That is acceptable.”

I’m sure Hastur will be delighted. Gabriel thinks, but he raises a questioning brow, but still says nothing, watching all this play out.

Beelzebub motions to Dagon, to pass out the forms that are all signed first by the Council, and then Beelzebub. Ze then motions Gabriel to the table. “Make your mark.”

Gabriel approaches the table, staring down at the paper, and then quickly signs.

A sigil burns into his arm and then fades as if it was never there. 

“Duke Gabriel, you will answer to me directly, you will control sixty-three legions as part of this contract,” Beelzebub proclaims, “Welcome to Hell.”

Gabriel doesn’t react beyond a blink.

Beelzebub smiles, “Come, we have a few things to address this morning.” Zir turns out of the council chambers but not before handing the file to Dagon. “Get this notarized as soon as possible.”

Gabriel hesitates, then turns on his heel and follows the Prince out of the Council Chambers.

“What else?” He asks quietly, seemingly shaking himself out of whatever had possessed him after signing.

“Wayward Demons.” Ze sighs as they move into the throne room. Hastur is waiting. 

“What the fuck?” Hastur demands with a shake of his head, “No.”

Gabriel looks like he wants to step between Hastur and Beelzebub, as if he thought to protect zir, but instead gives the other Duke a dangerous look.

“Problem?” He asks quietly.

“Yes, you-” Hastur began with a growl, but Beelzebub walks up to him and stares him down. 

“The Duke will be joining us today for this.” 

“He has Ligur’s Dukedom?” Hastur looks at Gabriel. “Fucking shit.”

“Shut it and stand aside. We’ll get this over with, and you can leave.” Beelzebub orders, sharply, with a shake of zir head.

The Prince sits on zir throne, and motions Gabriel to the other side opposite Hastur as Dagon comes in and stands beside Gabriel.

They wait as a small Demon, who looks like a teenager is dragged in.

Gabriel stands next to Beelzebub and folds his arms behind his back again. Distracted, he watches as he’s dragged in, wondering what in literal Hell was going on now.

“Thought you could get away with it, didja?” Beelzebub smirks. “You can’t go around just telling people you’re a Demon and ask for their souls.” 

“But it works,” The teen holds up a clipboard, “They sign all the time, and I remember Dagon’s class that signatures were binding.” 

Beelzebub has to pause at that.

Gabriel blinks. Are you serious?

Beelzebub turns to Dagon. “Are these signatures valid?”

“They are,” Dagon looks through the papers they’d confiscated from the Demon, “I’ve already looked through them, zir.”

Beelzebub nods. “Then, you may continue your work.” 

“He can’t just go around saying he’s a Demon.” Hastur gapes. 

“Why not? Angels go around saying ‘I’m the angel of the lord’ all the time.” Beelzebub answered with a shrug, turning to Gabriel, “No offense.” 

“Not normally,” Gabriel told zir with a smirk.

“Weren’t you the one who told the woman she would bear the son of God?” Zir smiles at him, a definite challenge. “What did you tell her? that you were an owl?” 

The young Demon looks scared of the whole conversation.

“Those aren’t normal circumstances!” Gabriel unfolded his arms and chuckled a bit, “Or is there more than one Christ running around?”

Beelzebub laughs, and Hastur looks fit to be tied. 

“You are dismissed youngling, continue your work.” Beelzebub shakes zir head. “Next is a deserter.” 

A female demon with a skunk around her shoulders is brought in and shoved to the floor. 

“Count Belinda.” Beelzebub frowns. “Desertion? That’s a pretty serious charge.” 

“I can’t do this anymore It’s just-” 

“Hell?” Hastur sneers and leans in. 

“Have mercy.” The woman begs as she gets to her feet, trembling, and filthy. 

Gabriel’s eyes softened, and he gives Beelzebub a pointed look.

Beelzebub sighs.

“Why did you leave?” Ze asked the Count.

“Duke Hastur-” She bows and sets her skunk on the floor as Hastur bristles beside the Prince, “Kicked my familiar when I didn’t do something correctly, he… continues to berate my performance.” 

“You should work harder, better, you’re weak, and your attempts to secure souls for Hell are bearing little result.” Hastur barks.

“Treating your underlings like that, you deserve to have them desert you.” Gabriel snaps, rounding on Hastur instantly.

Beelzebub holds up a hand. 

“Hastur, what have you tried to do to help them learn better tactics?” 

“They have to learn this themselves as I did like we all did.” Hastur shakes his head bitterly.

“I would take her into my legion, teach her.” Dagon steps forward and frowns. 

Hastur frowns. “Hell no, you aren’t taking my minions.” 

“That’s not your choice to make.” Beelzebub holds up a hand, eyeing Hastur sternly, “Belinda, you will report to Dagon, she will see to your retraining.” 

Gabriel folds his arms again with a blazing violet gaze, a small, barely noticeable smirk on his otherwise stone-cold features.

Another demon named Bailey, who is dressed finely with a small familiar of a white squirrel on his shoulder, is brought in.

Beelzebub only gives thanks to them for their services, and Dagon gives them commendation paperwork.

When Gabriel shoots zir a questioning look, ze says, “It’s not all bad.” 

The last one is brought in, kicking and screaming. 

“Lost his mind?” The Demons holding him nod. “Pit.” 

Hastur and Dagon nod in unison, and Beelzebub waves him off.

“Lost his mind?” Gabriel asked, intrigued, looking up at Beelzebub on the throne.

“Time is hard to pass. After some centuries, some of the thralls that roam the halls get … restless,” Beelzebub explains, “We send them to isolation for a few days it calms them down, then they are released.” 

“It can get ugly,” Hastur added, thoughtfully – this is the only thing he doesn’t argue about. 

“The last one got mad; said we’d changed the flavors of the walls.” Beelzebub makes a face, “We put up signs that said they’re not to lick them anymore.”

“We didn’t have anything like this... Upstairs,” Gabriel commended, watching the door in case another one was brought in, “I had no idea there were trials.”

Beelzebub blinks. “This is Hell.”

Gabriel raised his hands over his chest, as if in defense.

“We don’t have deserters. Or people who lick walls.”

“It’s Heaven,” Ze says with a smirk. “It’s supposed to be a place where everyone has a purpose or something for them. We’re overcrowded down here. We do the best we can with what God gave us-” 

“- Which isn’t much.” Dagon pipes up. 

Hastur agrees with that sentiment with a curt nod of his head.

“If I remember correctly, those who originally Fell built this place from the ground up, literally,” Gabriel answered, “Heaven was always there.”

“God gave us a Fall is what I meant,” Beelzebub answered as ze stood, “Dismissed, we’ll come back when there’s more.” 

“This way,” Ze added to Gabriel, nudging the former Archangel through the halls back to zir chambers. “You’ll be assigned your own room as soon as it is finished.”

“I understand,” Gabriel nodded, looking over his shoulder at the empty hallway behind them as they moved. “Hastur didn’t seem too pleased with what happened.”

Beelzebub frowns. “He can’t bring Ligur back, so his argument is moot. It's not his choice to make.”

Gabriel shook his head as they entered Beelzebub’s private chambers.

“What sort of information do you think the Dark Council will ask of me?” He asked quietly.

“I am unsure,” Beelzebub admitted, “I would just surrender any information you don’t think is vital.”

Gabriel looked noticeably relieved.

“Busy day.” Beelzebub sighs and drops onto the bed on Zir back.

Gabriel smiled a bit as they sat down next to zir. 

“I had no idea your work was so much different from my own.” He said quietly.

“What was your job like?” Ze asked after a while.

“No judging deserters or people who lick walls,” Gabriel chuckled quickly, “But I was in charge of keeping everything on track until Armageddon. It entailed a lot of different things.”

“I held the antichrist child for about an hour after he was born,” Beelzebub says with a small smile, seeming fond of the memory. “Such a small thing.”

“Did you?” Gabriel looked surprised.

“Humans are so small and frail, and more so as infants.”

“Yes,” Gabriel agrees, smiling gently back at zir, “They are.”

“I could do without the screaming.” Beelzebub laughs softly, “Thank God we don’t have infants in hell.”

“I didn’t think so,” Gabriel chuckled, “Could you imagine? The screaming alone would drive half of your legions insane by the end of the day.”

“There are infants in heaven, I bet, but that was not your department.” Ze laughs again, “You and a baby. I would almost discorporate to see that.”

“I’m glad it wasn’t my department,” Gabriel answered, “Though I’m sure Heaven had a ‘no crying baby’ rule. Or at least would have made one very quickly.”

“You’re free to do as you please, really you can exist here or go to earth at your leisure.” Beelzebub rolls over in bed, “We Demons, often go for soul collection. You will be given a room like I said, once it’s finished, and you can use it for your downtime or your office.”

“Is this what you do?” Gabriel asked, curiously, “Go between meetings, and here all day?”

“And sign off on request forms.” Beelzebub nods and points at the inbox on zir desk that is filling up with files, “It’s very underwhelming.”

“Huh.” Gabriel blinked over at the paperwork, then shook his head, “I suppose this is what I have to look forward to, as well?”

“You’re not a Prince; you’re a Duke.” Zir sits up beside him, “You’ll handle a little bit more… logistical stuff. I thought you could shadow Dagon for a while, gent an idea of what your new job will be.”

“Oh, right,” Gabriel smiled a bit, though it was muted, “I hope it’s similar to what I used to do.”“Make sure everyone is doing what they should be?” Beelzebub smirks.

“Michael could usually keep everyone in line just by being in the same room,” Gabriel answered with a chuckle, “You know how they are.”

“Not really, I don’t remember Heaven.”

“You’ve met them, haven’t you?” Gabriel smiled again and took one of Beelzebub’s hands in his own, threading them together.

“Briefly to bring holy water,” Beelzebub told him, “But they didn’t stick around for a chat Gabriel.”

“I suppose not.” Gabriel pauses, “Their double-dealing got them into a lot of trouble, now that I think of it.”

“But they didn’t Fall for that? Did you Fall because of us? Because of what we’ve been doing? Beelzebub looks at him, almost hurt, “Falling because you consorted with the enemy?”

“I don’t remember the official charge,” Gabriel shook his head, “The last thing I remember was being brought before the Metatron, then getting myself out of the sulfur pit.”

“I can send someone up to ask what the charge is... your fall is unprecedented,” Beelzebub tells him.

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Gabriel answered, squeezing zir hand in his own, “The only reason it would happen is if I committed treason. They must have had a good reason.”

“I won’t send someone if you ask me not to.” Zir rolls on to their knees and takes his face in zir hands. “I don’t want you to leave my side.”

“I won’t,” Gabriel smiled at zir, a brilliant, genuine smile.

“I hope you can be happy here,” Ze told him seriously, “If you are ever not, let me know, but I want to make this transition as easy as it can be on this side.” Beelzebub sighs. “Like I tried to do with everyone who fell.”

“I’m sure it will be fine,” Gabriel answered, “The only reason I can imagine some won’t be too happy is because of my... previous occupation.”

“No one will give you any trouble here,” they promise. “I won’t have it.”

“I’m ready for it if they do.”

There is a quick knock on the door. “My Lord?” Dagon calls. She sounds uncertain.

Beelzebub stands, letting go of Gabriel’s hand, “Come in.”

The door opens, and Dagon appears, looking worried.

“I would not bother if it weren’t important,” She said, looking between the Prince and the former Archangel as Gabriel stood up, looking worried, “But - Zir, it’s Michael.”


	3. Michael Appears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “What strange creatures brothers are!” - Jane Austen.

**Unruffled, Beelzebub nods. “At the gate?”**

“No, they’re here.” Dagon motions toward the hallway, looking more and more stricken, “They have another Angel - an enforcer - forcing their way down here.”

“Sandalphon,” This time, Gabriel spoke, standing up quickly, “What are they doing here?”

Dagon moves aside as Beelzebub, closely followed by Gabriel, goes to zir door and into the hallway. “Can I be of some assistance?”

Michael stands at the end of the hall. Sandalphon stands behind them, a sword in hand, threatening the Demons that had followed them down the hall.

“There you are,” Michael said, as soon as they saw Gabriel, “Traitor. I knew you’d be with zir, even after you Fell.”

Slowly, Gabriel moved in front of Beelzebub, one hand behind his back - a spark of lightning could be seen from his hidden side as he moves.

Beelzebub smirks, “Of course he is ....you lot tossed him out like unwanted trash.” Beelzebub shakes zir head. “I’d be running if I were you.”

“Run, me? I don’t run,” Michael answered, not even looking at zir, keeping their eyes on Gabriel, “Unlike my brother, I prefer to stay firmly planted in reality.”

“I told the truth, and this is what you do? Put me to the sword yourself?” Gabriel snapped back, stepping forward, in front of Beelzebub and Dagon, protectively. “If I’d known this is what would happen, I would have done it years ago.”

“You’re protecting them?” Michael demanded.

“What did you expect to happen?” Gabriel shot back.

“He’s a demon he belongs here now, a Duke of hell.” Beelzebub said with a smirk, “You can’t’ change him back or take him back and expect things to be the same.”

“They should have had you executed,” Michael snapped. Behind him, Sandalphon waved a hand, and a force field appeared, separating them from the guards that were shoving through the crowd.

“Michael,” Sandalphon warned.

“Right,” Michael turns back to Beelzebub and Gabriel, “Consider this an official warrant for your death, Duke Gabriel.”

They raise their hand, and at the split second they do, several things happen: Gabriel’s wings of black burst forth, protecting Beelzebub and Dagon from the flash of holy light that discorporates every other being in the hall, as Michael and Sandalphon disappear - only to fall to his knees a second later with a pained shout.

“Ow!”

Beelzebub falls with him.

“Gabriel?” The Prince growls. “You could have been discorporated!”

Hastur appears at the end of the hall, walking toward them.

“Pissed off white wings... I appreciate that.” He says, but Beelzebub isn’t listening, not really, zir’s hands are on Gabriel’s face. “Are you all right?”

“That burns,” Gabriel hissed, wings shook and fell with the pain from the holy wound, “Never thought I’d be on the receiving end of - ow!”

His wings were burning.

Beelzebub reaches under his arms. “Hastur, Dagon, lock the gates - no one goes in or out without my say so.” Zir barks. “And ward it. No more white wings getting in.”

Gabriel can barely stand, and hissed again as his wings flattened against his back and disappeared, leaving the back of his suit jacket scorched. He nearly falls over.

“Fuck-” Gabriel swore softly, “What were they thinking?”

“Like they wanted to kill you.” Beelzebub helps him up and back into the room, “Let’s get you down, and I’ll look over the burns.”

“They could start a war like this,” Gabriel collapsed onto the bed, suit jacket and shirt underneath already gone.

Gabriel’s entire back is covered in awful-looking burns. The holy light Michael had used hadn’t been anything small; it had gone through the clothing.

It would be slow to heal, and his wings were probably worse off.

The former Archangel lay on Beelzebub’s bed, arms outstretched, wings still burning with the holy consecration of Michael’s attack.

Beelzebub went to zir bedside and pulled out a bowl, inside it looked like goo with grass mixed in, but Beelzebub immediately started to rub it down Gabriel’s back and over the exposed parts of his wings.

“Zis will hurt.” Beelzebub frowns. “I am sorry, my - I am sorry.”

The strong muscles of Gabriel’s back tensed, and Gabriel hid his face in the blankets to keep the Prince from seeing the terrible, contorted look on his face.

“It didn’t get you or Dagon, did it?” Gabriel asked, hoarsely, trying to distract himself from the pain.

“No, you took the brunt of the consecration.” Beelzebub shakes zir head and sighs, “Only been a Demon less than a day, and already you’re nearly discorporated. I’m of a mind to tie you to this bed to keep you from getting hurt.”

It’s meant seriously, but suddenly the thought of Gabriel tied to the bed causes the Prince to pause.

Gabriel gives a breathless laugh as if guessing what ze was thinking.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” He finally answered, looking out of the crook of his arm at Beelzebub, eyes unfocused, clearly exhausted. “But I imagine attacking here directly means you’ll have words with whoever becomes the next Ambassador.”

“I will not have words with Heaven... they can have radio silence for a few hundred years for all I care,” Zir grumbled as ze slathers more in a particularly deep burn, “This is personal.”

They care so much but just can’t voice it out loud.

Gabriel groans as he tries to move, but after a minute gives up entirely with a sigh.

“I don’t think whatever this is, is over,” He murmured, “I’ve never seen Michael so angry. If they acted on their own, then maybe it won’t happen again. But if it’s sanctioned, we’re in trouble. Something needs to be done.”

“After you’re taken care of.” The Prince leans down to his face and kisses him silent. The chaste kiss breaks and Beelzebub frowns, “I will have someone’s head for this.

“Don’t go starting a war on my behalf,” Gabriel warns, gravely, “Michael is dangerous. If they’ve gone rogue, I hate to think what Heaven’s command structure looks like right now.”

“I’d be going to war on my own behalf.” Beelzebub leans over, and they kiss again. “They cannot take what is mine.” Beelzebub goes back to slathering the cream over his back. “Palm Ash, sulfur, nightshade, and juniper.”

The day of the cream.

Gabriel is still trembling, but it’s better than it was before. The wounds are still painful, but it’s not as agonizing as it was before.

“I remember what I did,” He said quietly, “I told the truth.”

“Humans aren’t allowed to lie. They’re required to be honest, but when we do it?” Beelzebub looks down at him and sighs, setting the bowl down. “Our truths aren’t ever looked at in a favorable light. I should have warded the moment you hit the pit.”

“You couldn’t have known Michael would come all the way down here for me,” Gabriel is finally able to sit up next to zir, taking zir hand, pressing a kiss to it, “… If they did make me Fall for that, then I’d rather be here with you.”

“You’re damn right,” Beelzebub smirks at him.

Gabriel actually laughs at that - a genuine, booming laugh. Like they were still an Angel and Demon, meeting at St. James Park or in some fancy hotel room, Gabriel always insisted on when they had their clandestine get-togethers.

He used his free hand to cup their chin and kiss zir again.

“Don’t do anything rash,” He finally said as they broke apart.

“A plague of flies on Heaven?” Zir suggests, “Or Earth?”

“Please do not,” Gabriel chuckled again, with another kiss. He squirmed at the odd feeling of the cream drying on his back, though he was infinitely grateful for it - the deep wounds on his back no longer pained him.

“Hell of a first day, wasn’t it?” He asked, still smiling.

Beelzebub simply snaps the door closing tightly and pushes him over on the bed.

“Don’t worry- I’ll do all the work.”

**+++++++**

**“Aziraphale!”** Crowley shouts as he pushes into the bookstore, “Angel?”

“Goodness, what is it?” Aziraphale peeked out from behind one of his shelves, “Crowley, my dear boy! Good afternoon!”

Crowley looks gobsmacked.

“Angel-“he gauges him. “You don’t know.”

He goes to the sofa and runs his fingers through his hair. “I need alcohol.”

“Know what, my dear?” Aziraphale rose a brow at him as he turned back to shelving, “And it’s still early in the morning, Crowley.”

“Angel-“Crowley steels himself. “No easy way to do this – but Gabriel Fell, angel.”

The books in Aziraphale’s arms tumbled to the ground, and there was a heavy pause.

“Now, Crowley, that isn’t funny,” Aziraphale said as he slowly turned to him.

“It’s not a joke.” Crowley shakes his head as he hands the Angel the missive he’d received this afternoon, explaining how the former Archangel is now a Duke. “He’s one of theirs now.”

“They made him Fall?” Aziraphale asked, bending down to retrieve his books with shaking hands, “He’s the first to Fall since...”

“Since the start, but he Fell, and word down below is Michael went down there to kill him. Don’t think they managed it, but they’re saying Gabriel saved Beelzebub and Dagon.”

Aziraphale moved past Crowley to set the books down.

“What are they thinking? Falling someone like Gabriel will wreak havoc on the chain of command Upstairs. And Michael tried to kill him? What on Earth...”

“Hell if I know, Angel.” Crowley shrugs, “It’s a mess..”

“It’s more than that, my dear boy,” Aziraphale answered, collapsing onto the couch, miracling a cup of hot tea into his hand, “Michael might replace Gabriel as leader of Heaven’s forces, Crowley. That certainly qualifies as worrying. It could eventually mean a war between Heaven and Hell, without Armageddon as an excuse.”

“What do we do?” He takes the angel’s hand. “How can I help?”

Crowley does want to help, they ended Armageddon to save the world, and if Heaven and Hell start a war, Earth will be the front lines, caught in the middle again. “How do we stop this from escalating further?”

“I suppose there isn’t much we can do, other than pray it doesn’t,” Aziraphale sighed, taking a sip of the hot tea, brows drawn, “Gabriel, Fell. Gabriel. My goodness, if they’re judging Archangels now, no one is safe.”

“Could give a flying dog about Gabriel, I don’t want you falling over-“a pointed gesture between them. “He and Beelzebub were close, as close as we are.”

“Lord Beelzebub?” Something in Aziraphale’s gaze changed, almost like a flicker of anger, “That hypocrite. Threatening me in this shop over you and then turning around and doing the same.”

“Yeah, they’ve been an item for a while; it’s all Hell was chattering on about.” Crowley sighs.

“I saw Gabriel at St. James Park a few weeks ago,” Aziraphale’s gaze softened as he spoke, “We’ve been... keeping in contact, I suppose, for the last few months. As insufferable as ever, of course, but different. He wasn’t as... harsh?”

“Love does that to creatures like us.” Crowley leaned back and smiled, “Makes us think of things other than ourselves.” He takes the Angel’s hand and thumbs over his knuckles.

“That was before he Fell, my dear,” Aziraphale pointed out, gently, eyes flickering between their hands and then putting his other hand on top of them, warm and soft over Crowley’s, miracaling the cup of tea away, “What do you think will happen to him? Is he safe there?”

“Michael stormed Hell and tried to do damage; thralls were destroyed, and Demons hurt, but I don’t know who,” Crowley shakes his head again, “I could call in.”

“Keep an eye out on things, my dear,” Aziraphale sighed warily, “I’ll keep tabs on what’s happening Upstairs, but with Gabriel gone, things are bound to change.”

“If you fall, nothing changes, you know that, right? I’ll still - I’ll still care about you, love you-” Crowley fumbles around the words, “It won’t break us apart, no matter what happens; our side.”

Aziraphale smiles, though his eyes are still troubled.

“I know.” He promised softly.

+++++++


	4. Tadfield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Never let your ego get in the way of asking for help when in desperate need. We have all been helped at a point in our lives.”  
― Edmond Mbiaka

**Gabriel stood in the middle of the room, adjusting the tie to his all-black suit.** Whereas an Angel he’d been partial to light greys and whites and sometimes a few pastel colors to break up the monotony, he didn’t want to attract any undue attention in his new environment - and if that meant boring black suits, that meant boring black suits.

“Dagon is all right, isn’t she?” He asked, suddenly, looking over his shoulder.

“A little singed on her scales, but she’ll recover.” The Prince watches him from the end of the bed. “How are you feeling?” It has to be asked, the thickness in the air between them has been heavy. “I won’t let anything like that happen again,” The statement sounds so guilty like the Prince is beating themselves up over this whole ordeal. “The council is furious, rightly-so, heaven can’t just walk in here and destroy thralls and injure my cabinet.”

“Michael is also one of their most powerful Angels, and one of their best warriors,” Gabriel pointed out, turning to zir, seriously, “It’s not like any of your thralls - or many anyone in Hell, actually - could have stopped them.”

“It stings, but it should be fine,” he added, “And it isn’t your fault this happened.”

“It is my fault; I am to protect this place-” Beelzebub sighs and stands, “I should speak with Lucifer.” they murmur.

At that, Gabriel looked alarmed. “Why?”

“Michael is Heaven’s greatest warrior, and Lucifer is ours. He’s still in charge down here, even if I mostly handle everything.” Beelzebub sighed, “He has a right to know what happened, and to demand action. It’s the chain of command; you should understand that - I have to go up the chain.”

“I’ll come with you,” Gabriel offered, crossing the room.

“Do you remember Lucifer, from before?” Zir asks softly, taking Gabriel’s hand briefly.

“Of course I do. Lucifer was always asking questions - hard questions no one else could answer. He and Raphael were always going at it. Lucifer demanding answers, Raphael was trying to placate him,” Gabriel answered, simply, “But it never worked.” 

“He is a bit more tempered I’m sure now; he and Lilith keep pretty much to themselves.” Beelzebub nods, dropping Gabriel’s hand and motions him to the main corridor, they head back toward the council chambers where and elevator waits. Beelzebub presses the button, and the doors open. It only has two options Foyer, the level they’re currently on, and HELL. Beelzebub presses the button for Hell and leans back on the elevator wall.

“It’s a fifteen-minute ride, so get comfortable.” Zir says with a smirk.

“I keep forgetting that all of you built this place,” Gabriel answered, looking up at the elevator walls, “Having someone new after all this time must be strange.”

“It is, but not to me, I know you. If I didn’t, this would be much harder.” Zir crosses zir arms over zir chest before adding, “I want to go back to that one hotel, with the… food table.”

A buffet, and like the fly ze are Beelzebub had to touch everything on the table with zir hands.

“And that big bed.” Beelzebub nods. “When this is over, and it settles down - let’s do that.”

“We will do that, once this is settled,” Gabriel promised with a laugh, “It might take a minor miracle to get the staff to look the other way.”

“They mostly did before.” Zir looks at the top of doors watching the little red dots blink off as they go down. “They’ve locked the main gates, no demons in or out, and there are only a few out on Earth unaccounted for - only thirty or so. We’ve sent them warnings to be mindful and keep a low profile.”

After a moment, ze looks up at Gabriel. “I am so sorry about all this.”

“I’m the one causing all the trouble,” Gabriel answered, “What about those two on neither side? What will happen to them?”

“Despite what they call themselves are still an angel and a demon, and Michael won’t hesitate if it comes to discorporating Crowley. They destroyed a hallway full of souls, thralls, and didn’t bat an eye.” Beelzebub answered, “And if Michael catches that Angel with him, you can guess what Michael will do to the angel in the company of a demon....”

“Michael wouldn’t...” Gabriel began, then paused, brows furrowing, reconsidering, “... We should warn them, then. It’s only fair.”

Beelzebub nods. “We will send a message to them.”

The elevator beeps and stops. The doors open, and the hallway is long and modern. They walk down to a set of mahogany double doors. Beelzebub knocks twice and pushes the door back.

None other than Lucifer himself is standing across the room at a small bar, mixing a drink.

“Beezy! How are you?” Lucifer looks over his shoulder and turns, “Good to see you and…”

The older Demon stops and blinks as he looks Gabriel up and down. “… Gabriel?”

Now Lucifer turns back to Beelzebub, features hard. “Why wasn’t I informed of this?”

“Happened in the last twenty-four hours,” Beelzebub answered, calmly, “And we’ve had a few problems because of it.”

“It’s a long story,” Gabriel offered.

“For another time,” Lucifer nods, turning back to Beelzebub, “What brings you here, Beezy?”

The Prince rolls their eyes at the nickname.

“Sir, Michael came into Hell and destroyed a hallway full of Thrall, nearly killed Gabriel, and Dagon.”

Lucifer nods and pours two drinks. “I see-” He muses softly. “Have we locked and warded the gates? Sent a summons out to bring everyone home?”

“We have thirty or so who are still out and about on Earth, including ones like Crowley, who won’t leave.”

“I doubt Michael would go out and destroy Demons on Earth, unless they were really and truly gearing up for a war,” Gabriel spoke up, “I know their tactics. That thing in the hallway – that’s not something Michael would do.”

“Temper tantrum? It’s not beyond him.” Lucifer sighs, turning to look over at Gabriel after downing the drink he’s holding, setting the glass aside, “Been a long time. I don’t even think I remember what Michael looks like anymore. Should we host a reception? Talk to them?”

It’s Beelzebub who answered. “I am unsure, sir, but it’s up to you how you wish to proceed.”

“Let me talk it over with Lily, and ask her opinion of it all.” Lucifer hands, motioning a hand, “A moment.” He takes the second glass and exits through a door on the left side of the massive room.

Beelzebub looks up at Gabriel. “Lilith.” They say softly.

Gabriel watches Lucifer go, and then slowly folds his arms.

“A temper tantrum,” He muttered, as if offended, “Angels don’t...”

He pauses, then shakes his head.

“Talking with them might help,” He said, approvingly, “Although Michael doesn’t exactly like talking. They’d much prefer to smite and be done with it rather than face the actual problem. That’s why I was put in charge of go-betweens in Heaven and Hell in the first place... Unless you count their double-dealing to get what they wanted, of course.”

“Perhaps there is something they want we can give them to lower these hostilities. I don’t know what else we could do beyond that, but Lucifer has never led a meeting like this, if he intends to do it, they might listen.” Beelzebub offers, “I know if I had come to you saying Lucifer wanted to negotiate, you would have jumped at the chance.”

“Of course. The opportunity alone would have been well worth the risk.”

At his core, Gabriel was a diplomat - oddly reasonable but not a pushover. It’s one of his better qualities, along with a discerning eye and mostly affable demeanor. He had been an excellent ambassador between Heaven and Hell, firm but fair in all their meetings.

“If Michael isn’t willing to talk, there must be other Angels who are,” Gabriel said, “If it means stopping a war, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“Good because I might need your help with this – Dagon’s too. We’ll need paperwork drawn up.” Beelzebub sighs. “More paperwork.”

The door opens back up, and Lucifer saunters in, he smooths the tie down to his chest and nods.

“Lily doesn’t like this, neither do I actually, see if they’ll talk with us. Me and you.” He points at Beelzebub, who nods sagely.

“Gabriel will assist; he knows their ways and wants better than we do, sir.”

“Very well, see it done, Prince Beelzebub.” He nods to them both. “Duke Gabriel.”

Lucifer turns away and goes toward his door. “Keep me updated implings!” He vanishes behind the door, and Beelzebub rolls zir eyes. “I am not an IMP!” they bit out to the door and turned to go back to the lift.

“Strangely enough, I like him. Very reasonable,” Gabriel comments as he follows Beelzebub onto the lift. “Michael could be just lashing out at me for Falling. That’s all this could be. If we’re lucky.”

Beelzebub smirks. “Pissed he didn’t shag you first?” the doors close, and Beelzebub presses the floor button.

Gabriel shot the Prince an annoyed look.

“If there’s anyone we should start with, it’s Aziraphale and Crowley,” Gabriel said, keen to change the subject, “Aziraphale may not be in Heaven’s good books right now, but he isn’t Fallen, and he could be a valuable ally if we got to him before Michael does. We could protect them in exchange for Aziraphale going Upstairs to find out what’s going on.”

Beelzebub nods, and pulls out a cell phone from zir inner coat pocket, something Gabriel would have never seen. They dial a number and wait. “Crowley, it’s me, we want to talk to you and your, Angelic friend.” a pause, a beat, “Good, yes, two hours....” Beelzebub nods at Gabriel, and hangs up the phone. “We’ll meet them in two hours at the airbase in Tadfield.” Beelzebub pockets zir phone and sighs. “I hope you’re right about this.”

“If Michael gets to them first, then I might as well not be.”

**+++++++**

**“Tadfield?”** Aziraphale looks startled, “My goodness, what could they possibly want from us?”

“Probably want me back in Hell for safety, I got the summons and ignored it.” Crowley stands and pockets his cell. “Come on angel, I’ll drive.” He grabs up the angel’s tan jacket off the coat rack by the door and extends it to him. “We should at least listen to what they have to say. The other Angels know where you are, and that most likely I’m with you. I’d rather not be here when they come busting through your doors.”

“Michael has no reason to come after us,” Aziraphale protested, as he took the jacket and pulled it on.

“I don’t agree-” Crowley shook his head as he grabs his keys. “I think Gabriel fell because he was consorting with Beelzebub, we are consorting angel, I don’t want you falling over this if I can do anything to stop you from getting hurt I will.”

“They’ve long known about us, my dear,” Aziraphale waited for Crowley to head out the door and then locked up the shop, switching the sign to ‘closed,’ as he hurried down the steps, “If that were the only reason Gabriel Fell, then I should have Fallen many years ago.”

Crowley frowns, “I still want to protect you-” it’s not a question, it’s a demand. “Let’s hear what they have to say. Won’t you do that for me?”

“Of course,” Aziraphale opened the passenger side of the Bentley and got into the car. “How long will it take us to get to Tadfield? A couple of hours?”

Crowley nods, “Bit less, we’ll be on time.”

And they were. When the Bentley pulls up outside the airbase, Beelzebub is leaned against a fence talking to Gabriel quietly.

“He doesn’t look so different,” Aziraphale notes, “Except that suit. Black?”

“Fitting in?” Crowley shrugs with a chuckle, “Maybe? What was he gonna wear, tartan?” He chuckles and gets out of the car. He waves to Beelzebub. “If you want me back, I need a considerable raise...and room for an angel.” Beelzebub looks at him, confused. “Kidding.”

“I’d much prefer if you two got to stay on Earth,” Gabriel spoke up, nodding at them in greeting, “I think you two would, as well? Unbothered by, say, Michael?”

“I know what happened in Hell, already, Gabriel,” Aziraphale answered, “What does Michael have to do with us?”

“Michael came into Hell and caused a ruckus.” Beelzebub tells them, “Dagon and Gabriel were almost discorporated, and about forty thrall were destroyed. Then, they left, insisting it wasn’t over. We wish to start talking to them, but we need a place on Earth to hold the talks-”

Beelzebub looks at Gabriel. “-We need a third party to mediate the talks.”

“We’d like that third party to be you two,” Gabriel nodded at them, “As well as someone still able to go Upstairs to tell us what’s happening, or whether Michael’s attack was a one-time deal.”

“You mean me,” Aziraphale answered, “Gabriel, I don’t know if I can. I certainly can’t go up against Michael.”

“Hopefully, you won’t have to,” Gabriel told him, folding his arms, “But you’re not Fallen. You can still help us figure out what’s going on.”

“You’ll speak to Heaven and come back to Earth and discuss with Crowley who will speak to us. You will, in fact, represent both parties’ interests.” Beelzebub sighs. “Would you go to Heaven and offer them our desire to talk?” Beelzebub extends a small file to Aziraphale.

Aziraphale takes the file, then glances at Crowley.

“Make sure Michael doesn’t touch us, and I’ll do what I can.” Aziraphale finally said, turning back to Gabriel, brilliant azure eyes alight and determined.

“Done,” Gabriel answered, “Even if I have to do it myself.”

“Guess you’re going upstairs.” Crowley sighs.

“It looks like I am,” Aziraphale looked down at the file, and then back up at Gabriel, “I hope I can help. This whole business is... rather frightening.

“I understand,” Gabriel unfolds his arms and smiles a bit, “But it will be all right as long as we can figure out what’s happening Upstairs.”

“I can go with you to the lobby part.” Crowley says and smirks, “You said a demon went in there with hellfire.” he adds after the fact.

Gabriel shot Crowley a strange look but then thought better of it.

“The file should go to whoever is in charge of the main floor,” Gabriel said, “Whoever took over my old position. Hopefully, it’s not Michael, but if it is...” He reached into his pocket and produced a pair of silvery angel wing pins, “Give them this.”

Crowley shoved his hands in his pockets. “Wassat?” Beelzebub looked at Gabriel but didn’t need to ask because Crowley had.

“These are pins given specifically to Archangels, it’s - sort of a status symbol,” Gabriel explained, “I’ve had them since before the Schism. They belonged to Raphael before me.”

Crowley frowned. “Shouldn’t Raphael have them then?”

Pain crossed Gabriel’s face as Aziraphale took the pin.

“As far as I’m aware, the dead don’t need status symbols.” He said, simply, turning back to Aziraphale. “Hopefully, that pin will show Michael that Hell is serious about these talks. If not, it should still protect you from their scrutiny.”

Crowley nodded. “Let’s go then, I don’t want this to take forever.” Crowley turns back to the car. “Don’t call us, we’ll call you.” He says to Beelzebub.

**+++++++**

**“Be careful.** Just because we talked to you first doesn’t mean Heaven might not still be planning something against you,” Gabriel calls after them, before turning back to Beelzebub, “I hope this works.”

Beelzebub nods “Me too, we should get back downstairs, I hate being way with this sort of thing looming over us.”

“At least the Wards are still up.” Gabriel put a hand on zir shoulder, “It’ll be all right.”

**+++++++**


	5. Meeting (More Than) Halfway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “The most important trip you may take in life is meeting people half way.” – Henry Boyle

** The staircases of Heaven and Hell were different. **The stairs to Hell was locked down with a guard sitting quite tense before it, arms folded across his broad shoulders, menacing but nervous at the same time. The one to Heaven was clear, but something heavy hung over it, like a weighted blanket full of tension.

"I don't like this," Aziraphale said, as soon as they entered.

"I don't either." Crowley shakes his head as he walks ahead of Aziraphale. "Come on, let’s get this fucking over with."

He waves at the guard. "Hey, Bill."

The guard nods at him as they step on the stairs to start going up.

"My dear boy," Aziraphale touched Crowley's shoulder. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Crowley nods, "Not letting you out of my sight."

The floor is silent, save for a singular Angel standing at the top of the stairs. It's Uriel, looking surprised to see them.

"Aziraphale?" She asked, then backed slowly away when she saw Crowley, "What is the meaning of this?"

Crowley stays back by the staircases. He says nothing waiting for the angel to speak on their behalf.

"I'm here to give this to whoever took Gabriel's position," Aziraphale held up the envelope Beelzebub gave to him, "It is of the utmost importance."

Uriel looked over her shoulder, then back at Aziraphale, her voice a whisper.

"There's no one," She said softly, "Aziraphale, there is no one in charge."

"Michael?" He questions.

She shook her head. "We don't know where they are."

"Worse than we thought." Crowley looked over at Aziraphale, "What did your chain of command look like before they took off?"

Uriel regarded him with wide eyes like she couldn't believe she was imparting this information to a Demon and a wayward Angel but had no other choice.

"After Gabriel fell, so many of our legions refused to take command from Michael," She admitted, slowly unfolding her arms, "After that, the Metatron commanded silence."

"This can't go on forever," Aziraphale answered.

Uriel just shrugged, looking helpless. "There's nothing we can do."

Crowley nodded. "Then, we talk to this Megatron guy."

Uriel looked frightened.

"He is in Gabriel's old office," She said, "I can take you there."

"We can find it," Aziraphale said, putting a hand on her shoulder, comfortingly, "We'll solve this, don't worry."

Crowley hangs back with Uriel. "Gonna be ok by yourself?" He looks around. "Don't think I can get off this floor. He says, looking around. "Unless the office is near here."

"That won't be necessary."

The Metatron's voice echoes throughout the room, causing both Uriel and Aziraphale to jump.

"Former Angel of the Eastern Gate, what have you brought?"

Crowley steps backward toward the stairs and waits near the exit and smiles at Aziraphale. "Show him."

Aziraphale pulled the pin out from his pocket and the file he'd received from Beelzebub. It was lifted into the air and vanished as soon as it left his grasp.

"Michael acted without our permission, out of anger and sorrow," The Metatron said, "Gabriel's Fall was of his own decision, his own doing, while he may not remember it so. We will send Hell our sincere apologies and prevent this from happening again."

Crowley nods, "And Michael?"

"Michael will be dealt with as soon as they are found," There is a rustling, and as if asked to voicelessly, Aziraphale held out his hand again to receive the pin back, "They are not here."

"Hell would still like to talk - Lord Beelzebub, Gabriel, and the big guy," Crowley adds.

"We will deliberate on the matter," The Metatron answered, as the light began to fade, "You will have your answer soon."

The light fades, and Aziraphale looks down at his palm to look at Gabriel's pin.

Crowley nods, "Well, that went better than expected."

"I'm glad they saw fit to return this," Aziraphale answered, putting the pin back into his pocket and looking over at Uriel, "Alright, dear?”

Uriel smiled a bit at them and stood aside for them to get to the stairs.

"Thank you for coming," She said quietly, looking between them, "Both of you."

Crowley nods, looking back, "Tell Megatron, we said thanks." He trots down the moving staircase with ease. "Come on, Angel, our next appointment is Downstairs."

Aziraphale looked back upstairs as soon as Uriel disappeared.

"Their command structure is in shambles," He said, "You'd think if they were going to make someone as important as Gabriel Fall, they'd have everything set up, just in case."

Crowley "You heard what he said Gabriel Volunteered to fall, he wanted to- they weren't prepared for it because they never considered it could even happen, angel."

Aziraphale shook his head, tutting a bit.

"Volunteered, can you imagine," He said, as they met up at the bottom of the staircase, only to throw his hand out to stop Crowley from going any further, looking straight ahead, a strange mix of fear and curiosity on his face.

There, standing in the middle of the room, looking rather lost, was Michael.

Crowley let out a breath and spoke as calmly as he could. "They're waiting for you upstairs."

For a moment, Michael didn't acknowledge them.

The guard that was supposed to be guarding the door to Hell was missing - either discorporated or he ran away, there was no real way to tell. Michael turned away from that staircase and then saw Aziraphale, still standing in front of Crowley, a protective arm out to keep Crowley from moving toward the Archangel.

"Hello, Aziraphale," They said, quietly.

"Michael, what a surprise," Aziraphale answered, a small shake to his voice, "Whatever are you doing here?"

Crowley turns himself around to stand where Bill had been standing at the top of the stairs to hell. "Can we help?" He asks.

Michael looked from Crowley back to Aziraphale, then started toward the staircase on Heaven's side, passing Aziraphale on the way up.

They didn't say a word.

As soon as they had disappeared up the stairs, Aziraphale collapsed in relief by the wall between the two staircases, still looking terrified.

"Good Lord," He murmured.

Crowley reached over, taking his hand. "Come on." He says. "Do I need to show you, or do you remember the way?" He winks softly and pulls the angel with him downstairs.

** +++++++ **

** Gabriel fiddled quietly with a loose thread in his jacket, looking nervous. **

"You sensed that, didn't you?" He asked Beelzebub, "Michael outside the gate?"

Beelzebub nods, "Crowley was out there too, but they're headed down." Beelzebub didn't need to say that. They turn to Gabriel and reach up, fixing his tie, and pulling the thread away and discarding it to the ground. "easy." Zir says softly. "I don't need you in a full-blown panic." The prince was staying in a relative state of calm.

"I don't know what to think," Gabriel finally admitted, "None of this makes any sense. Not the Fall, not Michael..."

Crowley trotted up to the gate. "Open ‘er up!" he clapped, and two demons opened the gate. "Come on, Aziraphale." He motioned his head toward Gabriel and Beelzebub. "Won't even have to go far." he smiles, "Lord Beelzebub." He smirks.

"Shut it, Crowley." Beelzebub turns. "What did they say?"

"Well, they're scrambling. No one expected Gabriel to Fall - apparently, it was all sudden and voluntary," Aziraphale reported as he reached into his pocket and handed Gabriel back the pin, "We met Michael by the gates. They went back Upstairs."

Beelzebub blinks, "Voluntary?" they look at Gabriel. "Do you not remember the last little bit?"

"Just that Michael was there," Gabriel answered with a shake of his head, "I remember telling the Metatron the truth, and that was it. No argument, no fighting, no quitting. Just the truth."

Crowley smirked, "Remember what that truth was?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Gabriel quipped back, instantly annoyed.

"Stop, you two," Aziraphale stepped between them, as he returned his attention to Beelzebub, "The Metatron said they will deliberate on how to proceed with the peace talks. Michael acted alone."

Beelzebub put a hand on Gabriel's arm. "Thank you for what you both have done." Beelzebub nods, "You may return to Earth; we will not bother you further."

“Thank you,” Aziraphale answered, honestly, with a nod, “Crowley, my dear, let’s go home.”

Crowley nodded and allowed the Angel back up the stairs and followed after him.

“At least the Metatron agreed that something needs to be done,” Gabriel said, watching them go, “I don’t like that their command structure had been torn to pieces. That leaves too many ways for something to go wrong.”

Beelzebub smirked, “What are you gonna do? Run upstairs and do it for them?”

Gabriel chuckled, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ve already been fired. Quite literally, in fact.”

Beelzebub shook zir head.

“What?” Gabriel smiled for real this time as he puts a hand on zir shoulder.

Beelzebub smirks “Hotel.”

They turn walking toward their quarters.

**+++++++**

**"Goodness, that was awkward,"** Aziraphale chuckled as the staircase closed behind them, and Bill came out, tipping his hat at them, looking similarly shaken but alive, "Must you heckle them every time you see them, my dear?"

Crowley stuffs his hands in his pockets and nods. "Of course, Angel," He shrugs. "If I don't do it, who will?" He chuckles. "Certainly not you."

“Because it’s not polite! Of course, it’s...” Aziraphale stopped as they reached the door to leave the building.

Suddenly, Aziraphale twitched and whirled around on his feet, turning back, a shocked look on his face.

On the staircase to Heaven, was Sandalphon. He was glaring at them.

Crowley looked at Aziraphale and stepped forward between the angels.

"A little lost, are you? Heaven's that way." He asks seriously, pointing up the staircase. "You're facing the wrong direction."

“My dear...” Aziraphale insisted, quietly, as the enforcer stared down at them, clearly threatening. He took Crowley’s hand, already pale fade growing to a new shade of white as the other Angel’s gaze found his.

"Back downstairs, Angel," Crowley says with a nod, motioning Aziraphale back. "Bill, take him downstairs, I'm right behind you both."

Sandalphon turns around and disappears back upstairs before Aziraphale can move.

“I’d... very much like to go home now,” Aziraphale said, loudly, shaken, “Now. Please.”

Crowley nods and snaps his finger they are on the street next to the Bentley. "Get in."

Crowley's upset too as he rounds the hood and pulls the door open to slide into the car. He sits, painfully still for a moment, hands on the steering wheel and looking out beyond the hood at who knows what, before speaking.

"Angel, we're caught in the middle of something, and I don't like it, Megatron's not gonna be able to control all those angels, and I think something is going to happen either way." He said quietly, "If war doesn't break out - we might have a faction of Rouge Angels to deal with."

He looks over at Aziraphale and sighs. "I don't like that idea at all."

“Something strange is going on,” Aziraphale agreed, distantly, not looking at him; instead of looking down at his shaking hands folded politely in his lap, “I have to check something back at the shop.”

"Whatever happens, Angel-" Crowley nodded and put the car into gear, "I'm with you, our side."

The drive to the shop is much more muted than Crowley's usually reckless driving. He does go over the speed limit still, but he's distracted and not being as chancy with pedestrians. He pulls the Bentley up to the corner nearest the rear of A. Z. Fell & CO., his usual parking spot, and puts the brake on. He stalls a moment and gives the Angel's hand a squeeze without actually saying anything.

Aziraphale looked over at Crowley and smiled - through it’s wavering like he’s trying not to cry.

“Oh, dear boy,” he said, “What have we gotten ourselves into?”

Crowley shakes his head "We should have said no." He frowns. "Hell doesn't seem to want to destroy us, so we have that in our favor. Beelzebub keeps zir word." He frowns. "Never seen them not."

“I... I think you should send a message to Gabriel. Tell him about... about Sandalphon. Make sure he knows.” Aziraphale looked down, distress melting away into something else, a quiet determination - the same that had taken hold of him while trying to find the Antichrist, “Crowley, I... I have work to do.”

“Let’s get inside, you get started, I’ll order lunch and get the kettle on, and call Hell.” He nods now determined too. Crowley exits the car. “Such a good car.” He pets the hood as he walks past.

Aziraphale actually smiles at him, fondly as they make it upstairs toward the front of the shop, pulling out his key.

“I feel like sushi,” Aziraphale announced, looking over at Crowley as he pulled open the door, “How does that sound, dear?”

“I’ll order your usual,” Crowley nods as he holds the door for the angel to go inside first. “Sake?”

“Of course,” Aziraphale answered, distantly as he entered his shop, “Now, I know I had a book on the Schism here somewhere...”

Crowley lets the door close, and he keeps the shade drawn as he locks it and heads to Aziraphale’s desk.

** +++++++ **

** “Something feels off about this entire thing,” ** Gabriel stated, matter-of-factly, as he stared up at the ceiling, arms resting behind his head on the soft hotel room bed, “Even if I Fell suddenly, without warning, the chain of command shouldn’t have been compromised the way it was. Our command structure has been in place since Sodom and Gomorrah. It shouldn’t have ended with me unless something fucked up along the way.”

Beelzebub rolls over to face him.

“What if the command structure fell apart before you fell?” Zir shrugs, “What if you left to make something right with Heaven?”

That makes Beelzebub lower in priority, Zir doesn’t sound happy about that. They scooted closer and lay against Gabriel’s chest.

“If that’s the case...” Gabriel frowns, running a hand down the Prince’s back, “No. I Fell because I told the Metatron and Her the truth about us.”

Gabriel’s brow furrowed as if trying to force himself to remember, “Anything leading up to it, I don’t remember.”

"That doesn't make sense, Gabriel, you said they knew," Beelzebub frowns.

Something odd flickered in Gabriel’s eyes.

“I...” He pauses, then - “I have no idea what actually happened, do I?”

"I don't think so, I think your heart wants you to know, and you're grasping at straws to come up with something that sounds plausible." Beelzebub sits up, pulling the sheet with them. "I don't care why you fell; I know you do, but I just - you're here." it's a selfish thing, but Beelzebub is actually over the moon about the outcome.

"We don't have to be apart anymore." That's important to the Prince, so very much so.

“I know,” Gabriel squeezed Beelzebub’s shoulder and chuckled, “You haven’t exactly made that a secret. But if there is something actually going on - foul play, they call it? - wouldn’t you want to know, too? Or if we have proof someone is trying to incite a war between Heaven and Hell, using both of us as scapegoats, isn’t it something we should at least look into?”

Beelzebub sighs clearly the diplomat and not the lover as they consider the words.

"Yes, you are right, I will speak again to the Council, and get Dagon to do some digging," They sigh and lay over Gabriel's chest to reach the bedside table where Zir phone is laying with his. "No rest for the demonic," The Prince says softly, sounding put out by actually having to work.

Gabriel kisses the top of their head.

“Regardless of how it happened,” he murmured, “I am glad to be with you. I just need to know it wasn’t part of some other person’s plan to destroy everything both of us have ever worked for.”

"I don't disagree." The prince nods and attempts a small smile, but it doesn't last too long. "I don't want to find a truth that will break us apart."

That's a frank admission if ever there was, digging too deep to find answers you never really wanted to know, scares the Prince. Beelzebub shoots off some text messages before putting zir phone on the nightstand again and sits up, and looks down at him still laying there.

"I love you." Beelzebub murmurs.

The prince says this rarely, and it feels like the concept has dawned on them suddenly, or that they just need to get it out.

“I can’t imagine any reason why the truth would break us apart,” Gabriel sat up with zir, cupping a hand over their cheek, violet eyes soft, voice gentler than anything the Prince has ever heard from them, “It’s the truth. Just like the truth that I love you, too.”

“Demons aren’t supposed to be able to love,” He kisses zir, and then draws back, “I suppose they were wrong.”

"They were wrong about a lot of things about us," Beelzebub says like they've said it before. "We are strong, industrious, we are very organized… ok, we're still trying to get the Thralls to stop licking the walls, but we are getting there!"

Beelzebub turns back to him. "It'll be ok?" A question that Beelzebub is desperately struggling to believe.

“I swear,” Gabriel promised, pressing zir close, “It’s going to be okay. Whatever we find out, we handle, and if it turns out, Michael and Sandalphon are truly just trying to start a war? I’m glad to say my side was the right one, and that we will win.”

Beelzebub leans down over him, straddling his hips and kisses him deeply. Zir fingers comb through his hair as ze arch zir back. "Gabriel-" Beelzebub breathes out. Gabriel's phone ringing makes the Prince roll off him and sigh. "I knew we should have left the phones in Hell." They mutter.

“It better be important.” Gabriel grumbled as he fumbled for the cell phone beside him in the counter and, out of habit, answers, “Archangel-“ he paused, mortified, shooting Beelzebub a smirk look before quickly correcting himself.

“This is Duke Gabriel.”

Beelzebub snickers into a pillow and shakes zir head. "I needed a laugh."

“… Yes, why?” Gabriel patted the Prince’s shoulder as he answered. “Are you sure? ...Don’t talk to me like that you insufferable - yes, hello Aziraphale.”

Gabriel’s brow furrowed. “But he didn’t say anything?”

Beelzebub sits up again and looks concerned.

“No, he was never in the chain of command. Enforcers like Sandalphon were delegated to working with us in non-wartime years, you know that...” Gabriel glances at Beelzebub, frowning, “... There are volumes, but they’re Upstairs.”

Beelzebub frowns down and shakes zir head in question to what is going on. Zir is very curious about the call.

“Then go upstairs and find them. They’re in the library... yes, I suggest being careful. Thank you, Aziraphale.” With that, Gabriel hung up, turning to look at Beelzebub again, “Apparently, Aziraphale and Crowley saw Sandalphon on the way out yesterday,” He informed zir, “He thinks that Sandalphon might have something to do with Michael’s attack and why the chain of command collapsed with me. He has an idea of what happened.”

Beelzebub frowns, "What sort of idea?" Zir asks.

“He thinks Sandalphon is influencing Michael,” Gabriel shook his head, “I’m not clear on the details, but Michael may not actually know what they’re doing right now. That’s what Aziraphale thinks, anyway. How he realized this, I have no idea.”

Beelzebub shakes Zir head and considers those words but says nothing yet.

“He wants to go Upstairs to find out if Sandalphon was involved in my Fall. If he was, it could mean he influenced the decision - or forced someone to do something they didn’t necessarily agree with,” Gabriel continued, looking down at his cell phone, deep in thought, “Enforcers are supposed to be neutral. They’re not allowed to influence the Metatron - they’re beings of war, not judgment.”

Beelzebub frowns. "A fall cannot be reversed, and if we find out he was involved in influencing it, he may fall too, and I don't exactly wish to deal with him."

“If we can prove he committed treason, there won’t be a Fall, regardless of if mine can be reversed or not - even if such a decision could even be made,” Gabriel shook his head, “I think we should wait and see what information Aziraphale brings back from Upstairs.”

Beelzebub nods. "Fine." They don't look like they approve of the tactic, though.

“Is something wrong?” Gabriel asked gently, “You realize you’re in charge, not me?”

"I-" Ze shake zir head. "I know."

Gabriel raised a brow at zir, “You’ve never shied away from telling me I’m an absolute buffoon before.”

"I am not going to call you names, it was something else-" Beelzebub shook their head with a sigh, "But you're right we'll let Aziraphale investigate and make a decision when we have more information."

Gabriel presses a kiss to zir temple.

“Whatever’s going on, I love you, too.” He murmured.

** +++++++ **

** Aziraphale was surrounded by books. **Books on Archangels, enforcers, Sodom & Gomorrah, and everything from the occult procession to oddly enough, a consecrated Bible, which was carefully sealed and brought out only after Crowley had sworn not to come near.

The Angel has been working like this nonstop for two days, murmuring information to himself and flipping through many pages, searching for answers.

Crowley knocked on the back of a shelf and set a cup of cocoa on the table just inside where he was told to stay away from.

"Something warm." he offers and turns back to the small armchair on the other side of the bookshop and flops down into hit. He hooks his leg over the arm and leans back and pulls out his phone to play a silly penguin game he'll never admit to liking.

“Would anyone in Hell explicitly benefit from a war with Heaven?” Aziraphale accepted the cocoa, coming out a reasonable distance away from the consecrated Bible that sat on the far end of the room.

"Damn." Crowley looked up, and his phone beeped. "Lucifer? I don’t know, he’s the one who wished to start the last one. Not sure if anyone would benefit, really."

Aziraphale tisked.

“All of the information I’m looking at is pointing at something very, very wrong,” He said with a sigh, “I really should go Upstairs and check the library. They would have all the records. The complete records. It’s required that everything is written out. That means, unless some Angel is actively working against Heaven, there should be details of Gabriel’s Fall and what caused it. And if Sandalphon has something to do with it, which I believe he did.”

Crowley sits up straighter in his seat. "What makes you think Baldy's involved?"

“You didn’t see the look in his eyes,” Aziraphale said, quietly, “Call it a guess, call it instinct - but that man is hiding something, or he knows who is. God, I remember his work. He was a butcher. He was...” Aziraphale shook his head, putting down the cup of cocoa on the table, disgust crossing his face.

Crowley looked up. "Sounds like one of my lot." He murmurs.

“Doing the Lord’s work?” Aziraphale sighed, “Sandalphon doesn’t look like it, but he is dangerous. Gabriel used to bring him into the shop with him whenever he came to check on me.”

"So I can't go that far into heaven, I don't want you going alone, is there an angel, someone, who can go with you?” Crowley pauses, "Uriel?"

“I can find her when I go,” Aziraphale nodded, “It’s probable I could run into him, or Michael. If that happens...”

A worried look flickers across his face.

"I don't want you going up there without someone." Crowley stands up now but doesn't cross to him - he's been touching consecrated items, and the risk is too high.

“I’ll find Uriel as soon as I get Upstairs.” Aziraphale promised, turning, “I’ll be quick. Take the books with me downstairs if I have to."

"Take this,” Crowley says and sets his cell phone on the coffee table, frowning – he clearly doesn’t like this, but without an alternative to offer, he can’t precisely object, "I will wait by the phone here."

Aziraphale smiles at him and takes the cell phone, putting it into his pocket.

“I’ll be back in a jiff,” He promised.

"I love you." Crowley swallows and fists his hands, they can't hug or kiss, or anything right now, he knows, but he wants to. "Be safe. Don't - do anything stupid."

“I love you too,” Aziraphale raised his hand, and, with a snap of his fingers, he was gone.

Crowley dropped into the chair and rubbed his hands over his face under his glasses. "Shit."

A knock at the bookshop door makes him growl. "We're closed!"

He leans back and is left in relative peace for the rest of the day.

** +++++++ **


End file.
